all of the reasons I quit my second job last night — kind of venting here this is long I am angry

So last night I finished my shift, left a note with the managers, and quit, requesting only an exit interview with a higher up. I’ve worked at that restaurant for what would have been 6 years on October 2nd, after so many bad feelings.

Note: I have multiple jobs, so I still have a job and I’ll likely apply for another part-timer soon, this isn’t me trying to ask for more commissions (heck I gotta finish the ones I have now, which I have so much time to do so here we go) or a pity-party or anything. My money situation hasn’t flipped as one of my grievances was that I really wasn’t making the money I used to there.

Manager training
About 1.5 years ago I was attempting manager training, after a lot of recommendations and being sent to company meetings out of town to represent the management team with others. For about a year, my training stagnated, without anyone teaching me anything or even giving me my monthly reviews — I had to request them.

It also became apparent HOW you got promoted, since I spent most of my freetime at the restaurant in the back offices working, and when managers and coworkers are having sex in the office and the freezers? Yeah. I’m sorry, I know what a blowjob looks like, nothing people do in an office should look like a blowjob. And yes, people had sex in the freezers. Lovely.

And the managers just didn’t care. At all. One of my jobs was to collect manager recorded reviews of server performance, quantify them and make charts, compare them, and have meetings with servers about their scores. The management slowly stopped turning in their reviews to me, and when they stopped or weren’t in their designated place, I asked the head manager and he was like, “Oh just make up the numbers, no one is paying attention anyway.”

And I got livid. No one is paying attention? When you manager train, that is on top of your original job. And I was bartending. So I served and bartended all week full-time, and spent all of my freetime working on the manager training jobs, to be told that I was basically wasting my time every week for 2+ months. And the entire time I was trying to keep updating my webcomic, which sometimes didn’t work out because I just couldn’t, and shit all that time could have been spent furthering my comic projects that ended up being a bigger help anyway. I coulda got a head start. And when I started manager training, I was a full-time community college student too. That 1-2 year period was a fucking nightmare and I look back and don’t know how Love Me Nice even got drawn in the first place.

At that point I told the managers I didn’t want to. That’s about the time I started working at Slipshine regularly, and I just started cutting my hours back more and more until I was just working enough to balance out with my Slipshine work.

Other Shit
There’s so much other shit.

• Working 22 hours in 2 days because the managers wouldn’t promote another bartender because they didn’t want to spend money training people.
• Being the only person cleaning the bar, which only became apparent the more I cut my hours back to work on Slipshine and other comic jobs/commissions, noticing the less I worked, the filthier the bar was
• And I mean filthy, slime-in-the-ice-machine filthy, and I would show the managers the slime and the yeast and the shit growing in the pipes and containers and they never stepped up to fix it
• When I would hit overtime when working full-time, the managers would guilt-trip or staight up order me to work off the clock so they wouldn’t have to send me home, because when a server hits 40 hours they’re not allowed to work any more that week. And because I was manager training at the time, I wasn’t keen to disobey them or fall out of their favor.

And the final nail in the coffin was the new Server Assistant job code. A server assistant is basically a server on probation. If you’re new, you have to work this job code first as training. If you’re deemed a bad server, you get bumped down to this job code til you improve.

I got put on this job code. After almost 6 years, good reviews, manager training, certification training, etc, I was put on a job code that is no joke a weird title for “Busser.” I was made a busser.

And when you’re a server assistant, you are no longer qualified to take tables, which meant that I could not pick up shifts. This is why when my car broke twice in the last few months, I had no choice but to take probably way too many commissions than I could handle. I’m still finishing a lot of them up now, but I didn’t have a choice — I couldn’t pick up anything but these busser positions, and they weren’t exactly paying out. The job pays like $3 and hour plus 1% of all sales for that shift. Which I found out is $27 a weekday shift. And they only need 4-5 SA shifts a week. Which 5-6 trainees have to share… yeah.

I asked the managers why on earth I was made a server assistant. I’d actually talked about putting my two weeks in before, and twice the managers convinced me to stay — they said I was important, they said I was good for moral and that the staff all liked me, they said I was good at my job, they said I was a good trainer, etc etc etc. So why?

Well the SA demotion was based on 3 things: Reviews, a multiple choice personality test we took on a computer, and our reported tips.

Apparently my reported tips are what did it. Because for the last 2 years, I’ve been bartending more than serving. Since this year started, I’ve maybe worked only 4 serving shifts. And because of that, I have no real record of “good server tips” as someone with a server job code.

So it was deemed by the company’s computers that I made “bad tips” and was a “bad server.” And the only way to get these restrictions removed was to work the Server Assistant position for several months.

I never felt so slapped in the face than to be working a table bussing position with shit pay after years and years of great service, enough that I was persuaded NOT to quit multiple times, because of a decision a fucking computer made.

I don’t care if tomorrow I get hired by another restaurant that’s just as shitty, because at least I won’t have the fucking baggage and I can know not to give a shit from the start.